


Westerosi Doner

by Maracuya



Series: The Seven Fandoms [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Humor, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:29:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1191975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maracuya/pseuds/Maracuya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor has to find out that there's a reason why his favourite dish doesn't exist in Westeros beyond a crack!AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Westerosi Doner

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, I came across my text "Metafiction", and somehow, I felt the need to fool around with this AU setting again. Probably because I needed an alternative to a very dark chapter I'm writing at the moment for another WIP. I hope you don't mind that I took a quotation from canon and altered it a bit.
> 
> Disclaimer for the series, this part included: I do not own ASOIAF. I do not profit from this story, nor would I  
> ever seek to do so. All credit for characters and setting go to GRRM.

 

 

Sandor was looking at the big house its inhabitants called the Seven Fandoms. He was literally dog-tired after a long workday, but also very content. He had come across one of the very rare male AsoIaF fandom writers, and in the man's story he had been allowed to fight and to hack his way in a battle and had been allowed to survive nearly unhurt. It had not even been the Battle of the Blackwater with its blasted green fire! Great, simply great.

 

With a twitching grin, Sandor steered over to the house next to the Seven Fandoms. “Kemal's” was the best doner takeway in the area, and for the thousandth time Sandor asked himself why this wasn't the standard food in Westeros. _Tender flesh was all a man needed. Or a woman._

 

His raspy voice thick with hunger he leaned onto the counter and ordered: “One calf doner, one chicken pide, and some lemon bakhlava, Kemal.”

 

“Chicken pide? Little bird for the Little Bird again, Sandor?” the middle-aged takeaway owner teased him good-naturedly.

 

“Aye, as usual. And for me some spicy Dornish red paste on top.”

 

“Right away, Hound. Take a seat, and here's a glass of tea for you.”

 

 

 

When Sandor sat down on a bar stool in front of the counter he suddenly noticed a waving movement from the back of the snack bar. He looked up and spotted Brienne, Arya and Gendry. Sansa's sister was leaning into the smith and playing with his dark hair. After years of a difficult friendship mixed with a good deal of quarrelling the two had finally realized that regular sparring in bed helped a lot to reduce the hormonal tension. When Arya had finally told Sansa about her first time with Gendry, the Little Bird had uttered a relieved quick prayer to the Mother.

 

 

 

Humming, Sandor found himself sauntering over to the trio now. Brienne patted on the seat next to her, and he sat down.

 

“Hello! Having a good time?” he asked.

 

The warrior woman rolled up her eyes.

 

“Pfft, I had another scene in the bear pit today. Balu had extra to be flown in from a Jungle Book one-shot. We were grateful that Balu is so experienced and such a professional. You should have seen him die! He really knows how to put on a spectacular show. The fans were totally enthralled, and Jaime invited Balu to a good steakhouse after the scene, for all his efforts; but I'm rather tired , so I excused myself. I simply wanted to go home and came across our two lovebirds here on the way, so we decided to have a quick snack.”

 

Arya bristled at the term “lovebirds”, but looked at Sandor then and explained with some enthusiasm: “We had a very exciting day actually. An AU north of the Wall.”

 

At once, Gendry complained: “I was freezing off my balls! Don't know what that was supposed to be about. Give me a warm smithy, and I'm happy.”

 

“You're such a blockhead, Gendry,” Arya shot back. “Do you forget your snowball fight with Steelflake after you had burned him in the scene?”

 

“Who's Steelflake?” Sandor cut in.

 

Arya waved her hand and explained: “Oh, just one of the White Walkers. You should really meet him. When he's not on duty he's a great entertainer. Coldhands was holding his waist from laughter when he told us the joke of how many undead creatures it needs to catch a snowflake.”

 

Sandor was sceptical and growled: “I'm not sure I want to know that joke. And Steelflake? Sounds like a horse name. Ah, well, I guess it's the northern version of Grey Worm.”

 

“Then tell us how Sansa is,” Gendry offered in order to change the subject.

 

“Yes, how is my lady sister doing?” Arya chimed in.

 

Sandor shrugged and rasped: “Has been visiting Winterfell for a few days, because she wanted to see your parents and the direwolves, Arya, but she must be back by now. She called me up and told me her transport dragon was on time about an hour ago.”

 

The young woman snorted and answered: “Aaaah, I seeee! That would explain dad's exasperated SMS two days ago about Nymeria and Shaggywolf plotting some mischief in the guest rooms and Lady running to and fro, pissing herself in joy.”

 

Sandor chuckled: “Someone was obviously happy to see her mistress again. It's a pity that our flat is too small for a fully-grown direwolf. We were lucky enough we were allowed to change the carport into a box for Stranger. By the way, I've heard that Ned and Robert have been engaged for a one-shot on the Kingsroad. Which means that it's well possible that they'll come over and stay here with us next week-end.”

 

“Fine! On a different note,” Gendry interjected, “during my last Skype session with dad he told me he's got some problems with the “Preservation of Historical Sites Office”. He wants to carry out some renovations, but the office is dictating him that he must use a special procedure so as not to change the historical structure of the Red Keep – and, of course, the procedure is way too expensive for him. And guess what's happening now: he and Cersei had to move into a different suite, because it's raining into the old one. Dad is totally pissed off.”

 

“Pissed off and pissed, I'd wager,” Sandor chortled.

 

 

 

_Ringeling!_

 

The entrance door opened and a man – still in full armour – stepped in, gestured to Kemal and pointed at the snack bar menu with the photos of the dishes that was displayed above the turning spits with the meat.

 

Kemal understood at once, smiled and commented: “The same as usual, I gather.”

 

The customer nodded.

 

From the back of the takeaway Sandor called: “Ser Ilyn! How's the alphabetisation course going?”

 

The king's justice turned around at him and the others and held up a thumb, indicating all was fine.

 

Since Kemal was also calling now that the doner and the pide were ready, Sandor returned to the counter, dropped a handful of coppers onto it and clapped the mute knight on the back encouragingly. He turned back to the women and to Gendry and wished them a good night. Next, he left the snack bar and strutted over to the Seven Fandoms. Looking forward to seeing the Little Bird again, he always climbed two steps with one stride – which wasn't a great deal with his long legs.

 

No sooner had he opened the entrance door of his flat... when suddenly a giant fuzzball crashed into him with an overjoyed whine, causing him to stumble and to nearly fall down the stairs.

 

From inside the flat there was Sansa's shocked call: “Lady! Stop it! At my heels! Oh Sandor, I'm so sorry.”

 

The direwolf didn't seem to have heard one word of what her mistress had said, snatched the plastic bag out of Sandor's hand and dashed away into the kitchen.

 

“SEVEN BLEEDING HELLS! The beast has got our supper! She's got my doner!” Sandor boomed and ran after the wolf.

 

Too late.

 

Lady had already torn the plastic bag and the kitchen foil apart with her big paws and was feasting on the delicious content.

 

“Shitshitshit!” Sandor exploded, turned around to Sansa, pointed at the mess and wanted to know: “What is Lady doing here anyway?”

 

Sansa was red in the face from embarrassment, and she stuttered: “Oh, it was meant to be a surprise. I thought you'd be happy. Lady will stay here for three days until father comes for his job with Robert and he takes her back to Winterfell.”

 

Sandor gnashed his teeth, and he rumbled ironically: “That was a fine surprise indeed. I'm off to the supermarket now to get twelve whole rafts of dog food. And a pig's half from the butcher. And a bloody new dinner for you and me at Kemal's. The beast will have eaten us out of house and home by the end of the week.”

 

Sansa batted her eyelashes and offered: “Make-up sex later?”

 

“Pah! While your bloody wolf is listening? No, thank you. And I've got an inkling the furred monster will try to sleep in hour bed, but I won't allow that, I swear. Make-up sex when she's gone at the end of the week. Day and night, to be precise. There will have to be a lot of reconciliation for this bedlam.”

 

 

 

When Sandor returned to Kemal's half an hour later his friends had already left, and Sandor was grateful that only the takeaway owner witnessed him in his still rather explosive mood. To make sure Lady wouldn't get his second doner as well Sandor ate it then and there.

 

Kemal tried to cheer him up: “You could try to see it from this angle: at least, the direwolf has got a good taste, if she likes my doners as well.”

 

“Care to find out what your own spits feel like?”

 

The man lifted his hands in an appeasing way and hastened to say: “I'm sorry, I didn't want to annoy you. The next portion is on the house.”

 

“Never mind,” Sandor grunted. “I've just learned why there is no doner in canon Westeros.”

 


End file.
